Dad Shock
by Memoirs of a Dream
Summary: "My neurotransmitters are decreasing as we speak. I'm panicking. Oh, god, I'm panicking." A TenII/Rose fluffy oneshot.


_A/N: If you recognize it, we don't own it. Co-written with The Boisterous Anomaly. Edited slightly because I thought that one paragraph didn't really fit such a light hearted story. That paragraph will have its own fic soon, never fear!_

**Dad Shock**

"Ian!"

Ian Smith looked up from his tinkering. "Hold on!" he shouted and turned back to the blue toaster he was fixing. Toasters drove him insane – he hated that they put stripes on his toast. Toast wasn't meant to be stripey.

"Ian, I need you to come here!"

There was a note of urgency in Rose's voice that made Ian leap to his feet – not of any conscious choice, really, but more like a reflex. Before he'd quite wrapped his head around it, and before the (not-sonic) screwdriver had even hit the ground, he was halfway out the kitchen door.

"What, what is it, what's wrong?" he half-shouted, racing to find his wife. He clattered to a halt in the corridor, where Rose was standing, looking happy and scared and uncertain all at once. Ian took off his glasses and raised his eyebrows questioningly. There seemed to be no blood, nothing broken, no disaster of any kind…

"Guess?"

He frowned thoughtfully, glancing around as if trying to find anything that could have been the cause of her distress. Finding nothing, he hazarded, "I didn't put the toilet seat down again?"

To his relief, Rose cracked a smile. It couldn't be that bad, then, if she was smiling. "Not quite. I'm… I'm pregnant." The words came as if she couldn't wait to say them, if only to get it over with.

Silence.

"Pregnant," he repeated, face blank. Rose nodded, nervously, biting her lower lip. "As in… Impregnated. A zygomorphic carrier?"

Rose shouldn't have been surprised that he managed to work words she'd never heard into this specific conversation. "Yes?" she guessed, growing ever more nervous at his lack of reaction. It had been three years since they were married and, try as they might, they had yet to have any children. As newlyweds, they had been eager to be parents – but after so long, what if he didn't want kids anymore? The longer he stood there, squinting and frowning, the more nervous she got. "Is… that okay?"

"Bananas," he said decisively.

Rose just stared.

"Bananas," he repeated. "Avocados, carrots, eggs, spinach, nuts – all kinds of nuts – liver, no, never mind, liver is disgusting…" Ian reached up and grabbed his hair with both hands, pacing in quick and almost frantic circles. It was a ritual Rose knew well – it meant he was working his way through an enormous problem and had very little time to spare.

"Ian." She made her voice sharp to break through the whirlwind thoughts.

"Lots of fluids, lots and lots, and no cheese – aw, that's a shame…"

"Ian!"

"Wha - ?" Ian whirled around on one foot, arms swinging as the cycle finally broke.

"What are… what are you doing?"

Ian cocked his head. "Foods you should eat. And shouldn't. For the baby. I've gotta make a list!" He started to dash for the kitchen to grab a notepad, but Rose grabbed his arm.

"So you're… okay? With having a baby?" she almost squeaked. Her husband stared at her for a fraction of a second, and then grinned broadly.

"Oh yes." He wrapped his arms around her and swung her around, hugging her close as he set her down again. "Oh yes!" Ian pressed his lips to his beautiful wife's, but he couldn't stop grinning long enough for a proper kiss. "Absolutely! How can you think I wouldn't be happy? Rose, we're – we're having a _baby_!" His voice cracked and his face suddenly fell. He let her go, grabbing his hair again, panic in his eyes. "We're having a baby."

"Yes, I know," she replied dryly, touching her stomach. It was still quite flat. "Nine months of torment."

"No!" he said, running forward and grabbing her shoulders lightly. "No, nine months of – well… yes, torment, but I'll be there and I'll do whatever I can to make you feel better! And then we'll –" His smile faded, as did his enthusiasm, and he finished flatly, "have a baby." Hands, meet hair, for the third time.

Rose frowned. "Mixed signals," she said simply.

"I'm not ready to be a dad," he clarified, quickly moving into analysis mode. "My neurotransmitters are decreasing as we speak and high levels norepinephrine are being released into my bloodstream."

Again, Rose just stared at him. Her blank, uncomprehending expression caused him to backtrack and simplify.

"I'm panicking," he said frankly. "Happy, but panicking. Oh, god, I'm panicking." And he crumpled against the wall and buried his face in elbows and knees. "I'm not gonna be a good dad, Rose, I don't know how to be a good dad. It's been so long since I took care of a kid, _any_ kid…" He looked up at her, wide-eyed, more frightened than she'd ever seen him. Rose sank down beside him and took his hand. "_Never_, in fact. Not in this body. Not since my…" He cast his mind back, squinting adorably at the ceiling. "First body." He turned and clung to her.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one panicking?" Rose asked. She _had_ felt like breaking down, but seeing him do so made it much easier not to. She wrapped her arms around him and held tight. "Hey, Ian, it's okay. It's gonna be fine, we'll – we'll learn together, yeah?"

"Learn?"

"Yeah, learning. It's something humans normally do. Especially when it comes to things they haven't experienced before, like parenthood."

Ian grinned. "Learning. Together. I like it."

Rose giggled and kissed his cheek.

Ian's smile grew wider. He kissed her and then said, "What do you think of the name Rousseau?"

Rose's nose wrinkled. "For a boy or girl?"

"Either. Both?" His eyes went wide and his face paled. "What if it's twins?"

Rose looked at the ceiling thoughtfully and then laughed. "What if it's triplets? Or worse, sextuplets?"

Ian crashed to the floor in a dead faint.


End file.
